


When the Storm Breaks

by menel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Brothers, Car Sex, Dysfunctional Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the end of the Apocalypse drawing near, Gabriel's attempt to mask his concern for Dean through harmless fun inevitably takes on darker undertones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Storm Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: References to 5x13 The Song Remains the Same, disregards 5x19 Hammer of the Gods. 
> 
> This fic is a response to [Njoyingnsanity's](http://njoyingnsanity.livejournal.com) prompt that can be read at the end. This story was originally posted on my LiveJournal on June 6, 2010.

“Do you honestly think you’re fooling anyone by drinking here?” 

Dean started but managed not to choke as he took a drink from his black leather flask. He knew the archangel was sitting beside him, probably with that irritating smirk on his face. 

“I’m not trying to fool anyone,” Dean replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m just looking for some privacy.” He shot Gabriel a pointed look to let the archangel know that this was an invasion of privacy. 

Gabriel ignored the hint. He looked bored. He had the ability to lounge anywhere and was doing precisely that in the front seat of the Impala, his right elbow propped against the window sill as he leaned against it. 

“Drinking alone? It’s really kinda pathetic.” 

Dean stared straight ahead and took another drink. Perhaps if he just ignored Gabriel, the archangel would go away. Sadly, he was mistaken. 

“You’re going about this all wrong,” Gabriel continued. “Even my little brother has the right idea.” 

Against his better judgment, Dean gave Gabriel a sidelong glance. Gabriel leaned forward. 

“It’s the end of the world, Dean,” he said, far too seductively. “It’s all about excess.” He leaned back. “Hell, even Cas drank a whole liquor store. What are you doing?” 

“I suppose you’re going to teach me how to send the world off in style,” Dean said dryly. 

“Like I said, it’s just Sunday dinner with the family.” 

“So, Gabriel. What’s your idea of style?” 

“How about this?” 

Dean heard the clear snap of fingers that he’d come to associate with the archangel and he found himself in a distinctly familiar strip club, sitting in a distinctly familiar booth, looking at the distinctly familiar sight of two women sexily dressed as an angel and a devil dancing in front of him. He turned his head to the right. Gabriel was lounging in the semi-circle shaped booth beside Dean, arms spread across the backrest as he enjoyed the show. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean said. “Did you just steal this from my mind?” 

“This is what I do, Dean,” Gabriel explained with a theatrical wave of his right hand. “I turn fantasy into reality.” He tore his eyes away from the dancing to look at the hunter. “And I like this fantasy of yours.” 

Dean looked around the room. The four of them were the only ones there. “Kinda empty, isn’t it?” he observed. “Given that this is a lesson on excess.” 

“Thought we’d have a private show,” Gabriel answered, smiling as the devil stalked towards him and ran a red lacquered nail down the buttons of his shirt. “But you’re probably right. We could do with more scenery.” 

Another snap and the strip joint was populated with customers and skimpily clad waitresses. The bar was suddenly bustling. 

“Better?” 

Dean didn’t reply. The waitress who had appeared beside them had caught his eye. She smiled at him as she bent excessively low to put two cold beers on their table. Dean couldn’t help but grin back in return. Gabriel eyed the silent exchange and smiled to himself, returning his attention to the show. The devil had sauntered back to the stage to join her partner. The dance continued. Dean tried to relax. The beer was helping somewhat, but not enough. He needed something stronger. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t more at ease. This was his freaking fantasy after all. He looked over at Gabriel again. The archangel motioned for the devil to come to him once more and the dancer complied. As Dean watched her walk over to the archangel, he couldn’t help but think what complete opposites Gabriel and Castiel were. While Cas had nearly died of shame just from being in a brothel, Gabriel was at home with trying to slip a fifty-dollar bill under a stripper’s bra strap with his teeth. The dancer received the tip with a seductive smile and eased herself into Gabriel’s lap. Great. The last thing Dean wanted to see was Gabriel receiving a lap dance. Why wasn’t _he_ getting a lap dance? Dean considered leaving but then remembered his stint in TV land and thought better of it. God only knew what he’d find if he tried to open a door. 

“Gabriel,” he said, leaning forward to try and get the archangel’s attention. “Gabriel,” he said a little more loudly. 

Gabriel arched an eyebrow at him, half his face still buried in the dancer’s breasts. 

“Don’t mean to spoil your fun but can you just get me out of here?” 

Gabriel considered this for a moment before he leaned back and gave the dancer an apologetic look. She pouted at him. “Bye-bye, doll,” he drawled. 

A second later everyone in the room vanished. It was quiet and the two of them were sitting alone in the booth. 

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Dean pointed out. 

“I know what you meant,” Gabriel replied, taking a sip of his beer. “I also know that you want something stronger than this,” he went on, holding up the bottle. “That I can do.” 

Dean’s beer was replaced with a newly opened bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label and a half-filled tumbler. Dean took a drink immediately, savoring the burning aftertaste in his mouth. 

“What’s this about?” he asked testily. 

Gabriel shrugged. “You tell me.” 

“You’re the one who appeared in my car and whisked me away to . . . “ Dean gestured around him, “ . . . wherever we are. I’m not the one who needs to do any explaining.”

Gabriel eyed him carefully before continuing. “Well, fearless leader,” he said, trying in vain to rein in his sarcasm, “you’ve been spiraling into a pit of despair. I thought I’d find out what’s causing it.” 

“So what? You can _help_ me?” Dean’s sarcasm was just as thick. 

“That’s the general idea.” 

“And why would you want to help me now?” Dean was already pouring his second glass. 

“Because despair leads people to do stupid things. And since stupidity is the norm for you Winchesters, despair for you means something truly catastrophic.” Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?” 

The way Dean’s hand faltered as he brought his glass to his lips told Gabriel that he wasn’t. He watched as Dean took another long drink. 

“I’m not worried about myself,” Dean said quietly as he put his glass down. 

“You never are,” Gabriel commented. “It’s _always_ your brother.” 

Dean gave Gabriel a hard look. He hated that the archangel was right, that Gabriel seemed to know him in a way that stemmed from more than just reading his mind. 

“Do you know what _your_ brother is doing?” he asked in a voice so cold it would freeze hell. 

“Could you be a bit more specific?” 

“Lucifer.” 

“Probably something pleasant.” 

“Is this a joke to you?” Dean hissed. 

“Not at all,” Gabriel answered. “Lucifer’s quite the hedonist. It’s something we have in common.” 

“Yeah, well. His type of hedonism is sick and twisted. That something you have in common, too?” 

“Depends. What do you know?” 

“I know he’s been invading my brother’s dreams every night,” Dean said angrily. “Sam used to talk about it. How Lucifer would come to him in different guises: as Jess, as our mom, sometimes as me. But he stopped playing that game a while ago. Now Lucifer just appears as himself, as his vessel and Sam talks about those dreams less and less. But I know Lucifer’s sway over him is growing.” Dean shook his head. “I just can’t figure out how. There’s nothing that son-of-a-bitch has that Sam could possibly want.” 

“ _Au contraire_ ,” Gabriel said, leaning back thoughtfully, “Lucifer can offer him everything. Anything. And he’s very seductive. I know that too.” 

Dean laughed. “You think Lucifer’s seducing my brother?” 

Gabriel didn’t smile. 

“What? You mean _literally_?” The shock Dean felt was palpable. That couldn’t be true. The idea was absurd. And yet . . . 

Dean shook his head as if willing the thought to go away. And yet it made a sick kind of sense. It explained why Sam was increasingly embarrassed in the mornings, why he would sometimes rush to the shower like it was some sort of race, why there were moments when he could barely look Dean in the eye. Sam was ashamed. And what could he have to be ashamed of except that he was falling under Lucifer’s spell? 

“Your brother will say ‘yes’, Dean,” Gabriel said gravely. “That’s how this story will play out. The only things that change are the ‘how’ and the ‘why’, but the end? It’s always the same. Every time. You can’t protect Sam forever.” 

“That’s. Not. True.” Dean had to believe it. He would repeat those words like a mantra if that’s what it took to make him believe them. 

Gabriel sighed. “I don’t envy your position,” he went on. “I can’t even relate. I’m not the eldest brother. That’s Michael’s territory. But I do know something about being the middle sibling. It sucks ‘cos you’re caught in the middle and everyone wants you to take their side. The sympathetic ear, the shoulder to cry on. Well, I’ve had enough of that.” 

“Yeah, ‘cos running away is a much more attractive alternative,” Dean said, a bit too cruelly. 

Gabriel took the jab in stride. “I admit it wasn’t my best moment,” he conceded, half-amused. “But running away from family is what we younger brothers are good at. Right, Dean? And just like Sam I learned the hard way that family always catches up with you.” He took a drink. “What have you learned?” 

“I’ve learned not to trust angels unless they’re named Castiel.” 

It was Gabriel’s turn to laugh. “Dean,” he said, mock stabbing himself in the chest. “You wound me! What do I have to do to earn your trust?” 

“Cas died for me.” 

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “A bit extreme,” he commented. 

“I’m an extreme kind of guy.” 

“I’ve noticed.” The archangel smiled darkly. “You’re a perfect fit for Michael.” He leaned forward. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Dean. Do you want to know how we choose our vessels?” 

“Is there a choice?” Dean retorted. “I thought the whole thing was pre-destined.” 

“Angels can have more than one vessel,” Gabriel said lightly. “But you’re right. There’s only one _true_ vessel, as you know.” He gave Dean a long look. “Still,” he continued, “our vessels have to be compatible with us. Not just in a physical they-can-contain-our-grace-without-exploding kind of way.” Gabriel shook his head. “No, we choose vessels that possess very similar characteristics to our own. That’s why it’s so easy to get a vessel to say ‘yes’ because when they do, it’s like saying ‘yes’ to themselves. It’s like agreeing to fulfill their deepest, darkest desires. And when we possess them, we do so completely. Since they’re like us, we can bend them to our will and they can’t resist. And when we find our true vessel, the human soul that is most like us? There is nothing that can come between us.” 

Dean’s anger was growing with each word that came out of Gabriel’s mouth. What gave these fucking angels the right to toy with humans in this way? Was everything just a game to them? 

“You bastards!” he lashed out. “You righteous, flying pricks. You’re worse than demons.” 

Gabriel laughed again. “Demons are corruptions of the human soul, Dean,” he admonished. “They lie and they deceive. They ask no permission, they merely take.” 

“And what makes you so different? You say we have a choice, but it’s all just a lie. There’s no free will, only the _illusion_ of it. You tell me that Sam will say ‘yes.’ That’s how the story will end. Then why are you here? Why are you trying to help us if there’s nothing we can do to change the end?” Dean’s voice had been rising as he spoke, and by the end he was shouting at Gabriel. 

“Because this is bigger than your brother,” Gabriel said quietly. “It’s bigger than my brother.” 

“Godamnit!” Dean yelled. 

In his frustration, he slammed his glass onto the tabletop with much more force than he had intended. The tumbler shattered and a large piece of the rim embedded itself in the palm of Dean’s hand. Blood flowed instantly. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dean muttered, looking at his bloody palm. He was about to pull the piece of glass out when a strong grip on his wrist pulled the hand away. Gabriel was suddenly beside him, his grip on Dean’s wrist acting like a tourniquet to stanch the blood’s flow. Dean didn’t resist as Gabriel briefly examined the wound, then reached in with his other hand to pull the fragment of glass out. Dean felt a spike of pain as the glass was removed but he hardly noticed it, so conscious was he of Gabriel’s closeness. 

Dean briefly glanced at his palm. The cut was deep. It would need stitches. Gabriel, however, had other ideas. The archangel placed his middle finger in the center of Dean’s palm and Dean felt a distinct warmth there. The pain disappeared and the warmth grew together with a white light that seemed to be coming from Gabriel’s hand. It only lasted a few seconds and Dean saw that the wound was completely healed. The hand that gripped his wrist released him, but the hand that had healed his palm stayed where it was. Gabriel held Dean’s hand in his, seemingly fascinated with it as he ran soft circles with his thumb around the area where the cut had been. Dean found the action both soothing and uncomfortable. Outside of high school, this was as close as he’d ever come to holding hands with anyone, and he never expected that anyone to be Gabriel. 

“Why are you really here?” he asked, unaware that he was leaning closer to the archangel. 

Gabriel turned to look at him. “I’m a sucker for the underdog.” 

They had never been this close before. Dean’s breathing had grown just a little bit faster. What the hell was wrong with him? If he didn’t know himself better, he would’ve thought that Gabriel was turning him on. But that wasn’t possible. And yet Gabriel was so near, if he just leaned a little more . . . 

Their lips met. Dean could’ve sworn that he hadn’t budged and he was right. It was Gabriel that had closed the distance between them. The archangel had been fixated by Dean’s lips. He had to taste them and he was used to getting what he wanted. Dean tasted of whiskey, even though his mouth remained firmly shut. When Gabriel had made contact, Dean had instinctively frozen. But Gabriel was persistent, gently moving his lips over Dean’s. When his tongue darted out to trace the seam of Dean’s lips, Dean caved completely. He opened his mouth and Gabriel kissed him in earnest. 

The kiss didn’t last long, and for that Dean was sorry. When it ended, he leaned back against the booth, dimly aware that Gabriel’s arm was draped behind him. It was a move that Dean had often used himself. His eyes fell on his once-injured hand where it now lay on his leg. He was surprised to find that it was still nestled in Gabriel’s hand. He didn’t have any time to think about it however, because Gabriel was being terribly distracting, nibbling on the lobe of his right ear. Dean knew that he should pull away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Gabriel paused only long enough to whisper something in his ear. 

“My brother is fucking your brother in his dreams. But you can have the real thing.” 

It was such a dirty, filthy offer and it turned Dean on immediately. But his body wasn’t receiving the signals that his brain was trying to send its way and he remained glued to the spot, unable to respond or show Gabriel any kind of encouragement. 

The moment passed and Gabriel pulled away. 

“Not interested, huh?” he said. Gabriel’s expression remained neutral but there was a note of disappointment in his voice. He turned his attention to the catwalk. The dancers were back. “Well,” he said offhandedly, “I’m still getting laid tonight.” He looked back at Dean. “You have a preference?” 

Dean didn’t hear him. He was still turning over Gabriel’s offer in his mind. It had been so unexpected. And surprisingly not unwelcome. 

“I’ll leave you with the angel then,” Gabriel was saying. “I know how fond you are of them.” 

Dean let himself be drawn out of the booth by the pretty blonde in her angel costume. Ahead of him, Gabriel was walking with the raven-haired devil, her long red tail swinging back and forth with her gait. Both couples were headed for a door at the far end of the club. The door opened onto a hallway that led to the club’s private rooms. To Dean’s dismay, the devil led Gabriel down the right side of the hallway, while his own escort led him to the left. Before he knew it, he was in a small room, sitting on a bed with pink sheets and a young woman pretending to be an angel straddling his lap. The stripper was about to unclip her bra when Dean caught her hand behind her back. 

“You’re really attractive,” he told the confused girl, “and normally I would be all over you. In a heartbeat. But,” he hesitated. “I’m just not into this tonight.” 

He eased her off his lap before her confusion could turn into anger at being rejected and quickly left the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Once in the hallway, he headed in the direction Gabriel had gone. There were rooms on either side of him. Was he seriously going to knock on every door? Nah. This was Gabriel. He suspected that he’d be able to hear the archangel through the walls. Gabriel seemed like a screamer. 

“I always thought you’d be the easier brother to satisfy,” a familiar voice said to his left. “What, with all the meaningless sex you’ve had in your life.” 

Dean stopped and glared at Gabriel who was nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe of an open bedroom. 

“What?” Gabriel asked with an arch of his eyebrow. “She wasn’t your type?” 

Dean turned to face him, hands in his pockets. “She wasn’t the angel I was looking for.” 

Gabriel smirked. “I see.” He moved out of the doorway and leaned against the wall in front of Dean, arms crossed, one foot over the other. Dean stepped closer, placing one hand on either side of Gabriel’s head as he leaned in. 

“Your move, Dean.” 

It was Dean’s move. He was the one who had sought Gabriel out. But as he brushed his lips against the archangel’s, something tugged at his mind. He hesitated. Gabriel made an impatient sound and hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Dean’s jeans, pulling Dean towards him. 

“Make up your mind,” Gabriel warned, “or I’ll do it for you.” 

Dean wasn’t about to be intimidated by a horny archangel. He knew he had some leverage in this game. He leaned back slightly, keeping his lower body flushed against Gabriel’s and looked the archangel in the eye. 

“You said the story always ends the same way,” he began. “If Sam says ‘yes’, that means Lucifer will face Michael on the battlefield. Does that mean I say ‘yes’ too?” 

Gabriel’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting this and Dean took some satisfaction in being able to ambush the archangel. 

“You know, don’t you?” Dean persisted. “You’ve seen how this will end.” 

Gabriel’s expression was hard. He lifted his right hand and Dean almost flinched as though he were expecting a blow. 

“Tell me,” Dean ordered, his voice steady. 

Instead of replying, Gabriel appeared to be fixated on Dean’s mouth. The hand that Dean thought might strike him lifted his chin gently as Gabriel’s thumb brushed his lips. Gabriel made a second sweep and the third time, Dean opened his mouth a little, allowing Gabriel’s thumb to run over his lower lip. The fourth time Dean opened his mouth some more and Gabriel pushed his thumb inside. He watched with darkening pupils as Dean took it inside his mouth and began sucking gently. He never thought Dean would be such a tease. Dean released his thumb. 

“Tell me,” Dean said again. He could feel the pressure on the back of his neck where Gabriel had put his other hand. He knew the archangel was about to pull him in for another kiss. 

“So stubborn, Dean.” Gabriel’s voice was laced with a mixture of amusement and frustration. The pressure on the back of Dean’s neck was growing stronger. “You will never say ‘yes’,” he said darkly. “And if that point comes when you finally break, it will be too late.” 

Their kiss was violent. It was a tangle of lips and tongues, a struggle for breath. Dean shoved Gabriel against the wall. Gabriel’s free hand had zeroed in on Dean’s groin, stroking him through the fabric of his jeans. Dean’s body was responding quickly. He could feel the growing hardness between his legs. Gabriel was unzipping him and just as he was about to slip his hand inside, Dean gripped his wrist. Gabriel shot him a look of exasperation that clearly said, _“What now?”_

“Nothing is real when it comes to you, Gabriel,” Dean said, breath ghosting over the archangel’s right ear. “If you want me to fuck you, it’s not going to be here. Not in one of your mini-universes.” He dipped down to nip Gabriel’s ear, mimicking the action the archangel had done to him earlier. “It’s got to be some place _real_.” 

Dean felt the rush of wind and then he was bracing himself against the leather interior of his car as he tried not to fall on top of Gabriel who was sitting in the backseat. 

“Real enough for you?” the archangel smirked, hands back to working Dean’s zipper. 

Dean suppressed a smile, helping Gabriel tug off his jeans. Then he set to work on Gabriel’s shirt before moving on to his pants. “Are we still at the motel?” he couldn’t help but ask. 

“Yeah,” Gabriel replied, lifting his hips as Dean pulled his pants off. 

“Isn’t this place kinda public?” 

“Are you kidding me?” Gabriel asked in disbelief. “We’re in the parking lot of a no star motel in a hick town in the middle of the night. How much more private do you want?” 

Dean shrugged and leaned back. “Like, wilderness private?” 

Gabriel looked dumbfounded. He shook his head but complied. Dean could see the midnight sky through the back window of the Impala. They were in an open clearing with a line of trees to their left. 

Dean had to laugh. “You are so easy!” 

“I’m horny!” Gabriel complained. “And you are such a tease!” 

Before Dean could respond or do anything more to distract them, Gabriel leaned forward and gripped his semi-erect shaft. He quickly stroked him a few times before bending down and taking Dean in his mouth. Dean gasped and leaned back a bit more, bracing himself in between the two front seats. It was hardly a comfortable position, but who cared about comfort when Gabriel could do that with his tongue? He reached down and gripped Gabriel’s head, guiding him so that Dean could better angle his thrusts into the archangel’s mouth. When he felt the scrape of teeth on the sensitive underside of his cock, Dean pulled Gabriel up. 

“No more teasing,” he said raggedly. 

The archangel looked satisfied. He turned around and kneeled on the backseat of the car, legs spread and hands braced against the leather seat. He felt Dean come up behind him, heard him spit into his palm. Then Dean was entering him, pushing through the tight ring of muscle as Gabriel tried to relax his body. Dean’s right hand was on his hip, while his left hand gripped Gabriel’s shoulder. He grunted with the effort of pushing himself all the way in, but he didn’t pause to give Gabriel time to adjust to him. He began thrusting immediately, setting a quick pace. Gabriel hung his head as he took the pounding, his own erection throbbing and neglected. Dean was leaning heavily into him, breath warm over Gabriel’s neck. He felt a sharp jab in his right hip as Dean dug his nails into his hipbone at the same time as he came. 

Dean’s weight fell on Gabriel. He briefly rested his forehead on the archangel’s shoulder before lifting it and whispering in his ear, “Don’t move.” Gabriel was trembling beneath him, still waiting for his release. Dean slid his right hand from Gabriel’s hip into his groin and then took his cock in hand. Dean would’ve liked to get a feel for Gabriel now that his own desire was sated, but the archangel had other ideas, impatiently thrusting into his hand. Dean took the hint and made a warm fist, allowing Gabriel to pump into it as he moved rapidly in time to the archangel’s actions. It wasn’t long before Dean felt a warm wetness and Gabriel went limp beneath him. 

Dean instinctively planted a small kiss on the base of Gabriel’s neck before pulling away, collapsing on the backseat beside the archangel. His head was still spinning. He couldn’t believe he’d just fucked Gabriel into the backseat of his car. He couldn’t believe Gabriel had just _come_ all over the backseat of his car, although the stickiness on his right hand told him otherwise. 

“Geez, I’ll clean this up,” Gabriel said, also settling in the backseat and resting his head. Dean’s left arm was draped behind him. 

The mind-reading thing was freaky too.

* * * * *

A little while later, the two of them were relaxing in the backseat of the Impala. Dean had partially rolled down the right rear window beside him and the cool night air was blowing into the car. He inhaled deeply, loving the fresh scent of pine. Gabriel was stretched out on the backseat, one leg crossed over the other. The lower half of his legs were propped on Dean’s lap and Dean was lazily running his hand up and down Gabriel’s shin. Their clothes remained a crumpled mess on the Impala’s floor. Dean was drinking again from his leather flask, while Gabriel was eating a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting.

Dean eyed the archangel thoughtfully before speaking. “The whole sweets thing?” he inquired. “Was that always part of your cover or do you really have a sweet tooth?” 

Gabriel shrugged, licking some frosting off his fingertips. “A bit of both,” he replied. “After the first few centuries, it hardly made a difference.” He put the last piece of the cupcake in his mouth and then turned his full attention to Dean, eyeing him as though he were the biggest bon bon in the world. “But there’s something else I’d rather have as dessert,” he said, smiling suggestively. 

Dean paused, the flask halfway to his lips and met Gabriel’s eyes. 

“Well, come on then.” 

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: The apocalypse is getting bad and Sam is teetering on the verge of saying yes to Lucifer when Gabriel joins Team Free Will. One night Gabriel sits down with an already drunk Dean, who is drowning his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey. The two start passing the bottle back and forth, bonding over the fact that they both understand what it's like to have a f'ed up family. A little sharing turns into some kissing and/or more. 
> 
> Disclaimer: _Supernatural_ is the property of Eric Kripke and The CW. No infringement is intended; no profit is being made.


End file.
